


Safe

by SaadieStuff



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Hurt Alex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soft Boys, a bit of angst, references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaadieStuff/pseuds/SaadieStuff
Summary: Michael and Alex reconcile a few weeks after their “breakup” at the drive-in that occurred in 1x03.





	Safe

“What do you want?” Michael says harshly when he opens the door to his trailer to find Alex standing there in the dark, preparing to knock again. He regrets his tone when he sees how out-of-sorts Alex is.

“Look, I'm sorry for what I said at the drive-in,” Alex rambles out, “My dad… he gets to me in ways that-- I-- But I stood up to him tonight.”

Michael takes a shallow breath, offering his own apology, “You’ve stood up to him before. I know that. I wasn’t entirely fair when I said--”

Alex’s eyes are wide, “This was… different. I think I-- I scared him. I think I-- uh, I think I could use some ice…”

Alarmed, Michael opens the trailer door wider, casting light on Alex’s face, studying it for injuries.

Alex waves him off, “No, he just slammed the back of my head into a wall--"

 _Just._ “Alex--”

“--only because he caught me off balance - stupid leg - then I got the upper hand, threw him clear off me,” Alex finally takes a breath, “I'm a lot stronger than I used to be.”

Michael just nods and steps out of the way, letting Alex in.

In the close quarters, as Alex brushes past him, Michael can practically feel Alex's body vibrating with adrenaline.

Wordlessly, Michael retrieves an ice pack from his freezer as Alex settles himself at the kitchen table. Michael comes to sit across from him and holds out the ice pack; Alex's hand is shaking as he takes it.

They both notice.

“You okay?” Michael asks softly.

Alex almost laughs, “I'm kind of wired. I don't even remember the drive over.” Then he winces, squeezing his eyes shut as he arranges the ice pack at the back of his head.

That's when Michael notices the finger-shaped bruises forming on Alex's neck. His anger flares at the memory of the tool shed; his bad hand twitches.

Unaware, eyes open again, Alex continues, more solemnly now, “Honestly didn't even know where I was headed…”

“Jesus, Alex--"

“I feel safe with you,” Alex says suddenly, like it’s the answer to everything.

“You shouldn't,” Michael mutters.

Alex hears but ignores him, “If we were going to try to make a go of it... you can't be dealing drugs and getting into bar fights.”

Michael sighs wearily, searching for the strength to argue, to shout, _that’s what you came here to say?_ But he doesn’t find it.

“Not because of what I said before,” Alex explains, “But because if we were together-- fuck, even if we weren’t--” Alex shakes his head and immediately grimaces, “I need you to be safe. I need you to be _here_ , not in jail. And I want you to be happy. You can't tell me screwing around with that shit makes you happy.”

Michael is taken aback. All he has to offer is the truth. “Alex, I swear I'm not cooking or selling drugs,” he says sincerely.

“Okay, I believe you,” Alex says with a slight shrug of acceptance that makes Michael feel a little braver, allowing him to consider the possibilities.

“And I could work on the bar fights…” Michael concedes, dropping his gaze and speaking slowly, “I just-- I drink too much sometimes… and people are assholes.”

“Does drinking… does it make things quiet?” Alex asks gently.

It’s not meant to, but it fucking hurts. Michael rubs his hands over his face to give himself a minute, slumping far into his seat.

“I wish,” Michael eventually answers as he battles the urge to fiddle with his empty hands.

A long moment of silence follows until Michael can’t take it anymore.

“Well, I guess that settles all the issues between us, huh?” Michael says jokingly, a smile playing across his lips in spite of everything.

“Yeah, right,” Alex snorts softly, returning the smile before taking a gulp of air and turning serious, “But maybe it's enough… for tonight?”

Michael nods his agreement, licking his lips absently, eyes falling on on Alex’s neck again. “Do you want some ice for your neck too?”

“Damn it,” Alex swears, realizing there must be visible marks, “No, I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make you as comfortable as possible,” Michael frowns at him, “And… I’ve got plenty of ice packs - they’re handy after a bar fight,” he teases, though wonders if it’s too soon for that.

He gets his answer when Alex grins. “Alright. Hook me up.”

Michael is on his feet the next second. He digs in his freezer for two more ice packs and wraps them in a thin towel. Returning to the table, Michael pulls his chair around as close as he can get to Alex, who spins in his own chair to face him. Michael sits and leans over to gently press the ice packs to either side of Alex’s neck.

“How’s that?” Michael asks, voice full of concern.

“Cold,” Alex answers with a bit of a chuckle as he shivers.

“Oh. I can get a thicker towel and--” Michael starts apologetically.

“No, no, it’s good. Feels good,” Alex assures him, reaching to rub Michael’s bicep with one hand, the other occupied holding ice to the back of his own head.

“Good.”

“Mmm…” Alex hums as his tongue darts out from between his lips and his gaze drifts to Michael’s mouth.

“Alex…” Michael says in warning, knowing what they both want as he draws in closer, but thinking it’s not wise while Alex is wrapped in ice packs from the shoulders up.

“Please,” Alex whispers.

Michael doesn’t deny him.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure what the point of writing this was as it will surely be erased by canon shortly! Ah well.
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed my first Roswell fic! :)


End file.
